


More

by Glitch1 (The_Glitches)



Series: Entangle [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Prime
Genre: Dominance, Dubious Consent, M/M, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Verbal banter, benefits of interfacing, foreplay wrestle, scratches, second round, tactile stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Glitches/pseuds/Glitch1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron instigates round two, much to Starscream's surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> I will admit, not the most original of titles, but direct nonetheless.

Soundwave needn’t have brought it to his attention. Megatron had already noticed. 

It had been a long time since the disquiet aboard the Nemesis was as subdued as it was recently. Infighting was commonplace in Decepticon ranks, especially amongst certain unruly drones, those who alleviated their monotony by stirring up trouble in their own inner circles and reaping the entertainment value. Such occurrences only met Megatron’s awareness via his Third in Command’s weekly report, of which he usually only glanced over. Crew management was his Second in Command’s responsibility, and while it had always been acceptable, lately it had been meritorious.

Recalling the report he had read (properly) last recharge, Megatron ran a few details through his processor as he walked through the corridors of his warship. The frequency of eradicons milling about had been reduced as of late. Most, as stated in the report, had been assigned specific maintenance tasks concerning the upkeep of the Nemesis, putting them to use when not in battle. Further in the report, fuel efficiency and overall output results had amplified by a notable percentage at the expense of non-essential systems, and the implementation of a new application designed to target and shut down idle background programs. The power saved was quite significant, thus lowering the consumption of energon fuel. Productivity had quite noticeably increased.

It was all Starscream’s doing.

Megatron suppressed a smirk. For the past two weeks he had been keeping a watch on his Second. Initially, he wanted nothing more than to jump Starscream as soon as he could walk straight again, a weakness he had fully accepted. But his assessment of his SIC’s behavior in those following days had stalled his objective, and he had watched. Observed. The sharp, jittery and tense mannerisms had disappeared, and aside from the signs of vague distraction occupying his mind, Starscream had applied himself completely to his duties. His concentration was undeniably focused, and not only did he carry out his responsibilities efficiently, he had created a knock-on effect throughout the crew thanks to his more professional conduct, inspiring the drones to comply with added fervor. It didn’t take a genius to figure out _why_ this recent behavior, and it was with great amusement that Megatron realized how he could now effectively keep his Second in line. Their interface session had worked out a much-needed release of energy, and with Starscream’s usual eccentricity perpetually charging him up, it had relieved him of that pent-up energy. Of course, it was only a matter of time before the surplus built again. (Aah, the things Megatron did for his cause…)

It wasn’t just his SIC who had gained the benefits. Megatron had felt calmer, his anger was not so easily ignited, and his frame had found the perfect balance of energy levels aiding him through the cycles. Never one to admit he was unfocused, he did, however, secretly acknowledge that his neural net could handle tasks with a much greater clarity. And yet, despite this personal tranquility, his body still yearned for more of the Seeker. Recharge often brought him pleasing visions of Starscream’s yielding frame bending beneath his servos, and he grew more intent on acting upon them.

As with all things wonderful, they eventually came to an end. Apparently two weeks was the period of time for Starscream’s temper to return, albeit in small measures. It had been most amusing to watch those familiar qualities on the video feed as he asserted his authority over a pair of drones. It was with some (little) self-convincing that brought Megatron through the corridors now.

The distinct clang of metal summoned him around the corner to the mess hall, and he was presented with an audience of three drones and a Seeker, the latter of which was lowering a servo. 

“Lord Megatron,” the drones chorused, posture straightening in respect. One of them sported a faint scuff across his mask.

Megatron fixed his gaze upon his SIC, taking a cruel delight in the response he elicited recently. Their interactions had been sparse and few between, mainly due to the Seeker’s active schedule, thus it seemed with every face-to-face Starscream seemed unable to drop the chary mien he had adopted.

“Return to your duties,” Megatron directed towards the drones, who nodded and marched off smartly. “Starscream,” he ordered, turning away to walk.

The Seeker obeyed and fell in step beside him, focusing more than was necessary on their direction. For a few seconds the sounds of their paces provided the only audible altercation; bringing their stark differences to the forefront of the warlord’s processor. Starscream’s taps were the very antithesis to Megatron’s weighted thuds. Finally, pulling a datapad from his subspace, Megatron handed it to his Second.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Starscream,” Megatron commented, removing the majority of his usual venom in favor of a more neutral tone. “Your work has been impressive as of late.”

Starscream flicked through the report with little care, he already knew the details. He lowered the pad. “I am aware of the results,” he replied, an edge of conceit lining his words. “I predicted the outcome.”

“However there is one aspect in which you are negligent,” Megatron continued.

The Seeker scowled up at him from the corner of his optics, an edge of wariness in his gaze. “And what would _that_ be?”

Allowing the silence to settle for a few beats, Megatron looked down at the Seeker. “Soundwave informs me you have missed several energon rations.”

Starscream’s frown deepened, having expected something more important. “That is hardly negligence, and it is completely insignificant to the overall welfare of this warship,” he remarked, lip plate turning up in distaste for the topic. “My efforts have doubled crew productivity.”

Megatron smirked. “Indeed they have,” he agreed, earning a flash of surprise. He came to a halt and Starscream alongside him. “And I intend to keep it that way.” 

The puzzled look on Starscream’s face plate was as much a reward as the look of shock it morphed into upon realizing where they were. Megatron entered his code, gaze on the other mech. The room door slid open a second before the Seeker stepped back, optics wide.

“Inside,” Megatron ordered, his tone low and meaningful. The sudden change of body language before him sent a thrill along his circuits. 

“Lord Megatron,” Starscream began, his vocalizer climbing to a higher pitch that betrayed his unraveling calm. “You can’t – you don’t assume that – again –”

Enjoying the panicked appearance washing across the Seeker, Megatron stepped closer, watching him closely. “Come now, Starscream,” he mocked, reaching out and taking hold of a forearm. “You cannot deny your gratification of our _previous_ engagement…”

Starscream’s brow dug inwards as he pulled against Megatron’s grip. “There was no _engagement_! You lured me under false pretenses!”

“Would you have come willingly had I offered outright?” The verbal arguments were almost an entertaining as their physical push-and-shoves. It was so easy to rile up his SIC, just as it was to throw Starscream into the room with force. But where was the fun in that?

Starscream spluttered before ceasing his movements altogether, at a loss for words. What a sight.

Triumphant, Megatron drew him closer. “No, you would not,” he answered for him. “And yet, your reactions towards me are now _passive_ , you _shiver_ in recollection, and your _optics_ travel across my frame during our short exchanges…” Megatron had long since possessed a mastery of words. “Even now, your field pulses with anticipation…” He was basking in its potency, feeling it fueling his own. For such a slim mech, Starscream had hidden away an impressive libido. “Stubborn though you are, you cannot conceal your desire.”

In the seductiveness of the gladiator’s words, in the face of his losing argument, the Seeker’s wavering resolve fell, and his wings dropped to an uncertain angle, consequently driving Megatron’s lust into overdrive. With a bolt of victory, he maneuvered his prize into his room and the door shut securely behind. Starscream was docile in his servos, having adopted a look of shocked surrender. It was a surprise he had not offered more resistance; Megatron had been expecting it – looking forward to it, even. But it appeared he was so confused as to his own feelings he could not form a coherent defense. Torn between defiance and acceptance. Even amongst his own crew Megatron was a winning combatant.

This time, there was no throwing. Servos already exploring possessively, Megatron backed his SIC into his berth, wrapping his large palms around the small waist and hoisting him onto the surface. There was something intimately pleasing in the effortless way he could handle Starscream, and something even more pleasing in the way he let him. Megatron was beginning to suspect some sort of coding was to blame, perhaps Starscream’s frame was so desperate for the release from its own tension that it needed to subdue its resistance programing. It might certainly explain Starscream’s rather accommodating attitude.

Pushing between the Seeker’s thighs, Megatron sent his servos wandering boldly, driven by recollections of his own recharge dreams as Starscream bordered on the edge of inaction, shuddering at the touches. At the sound of Megatron’s deep, rumbled chuckle, the flyer seemed to snap to his senses.

“Wait – _wait_!” He exclaimed angrily, shoving himself back, further onto the berth. He glared. “You assume you can just seduce me and _use_ me whenever it suits you? How dare you view me as some – some _pleasure bot_!”

Aaaah, there he was. It seemed that coding was no match for Starscream’s notorious irritability. Megatron’s spark hummed at the prospect of a verbal combat. “You are no pleasure bot.”

Starscream’s intake opened, stalled, and then exploded with an insulted hiss. “So I’m not even good, hmph?! If that’s how you feel perhaps you should seek some other berth-warmer!” He kicked at Megatron’s wandering servo as he tried to scramble further out of reach. He didn’t quite make it before he was wrenched back, infuriated by the smirk directed at him. “If you want an easy frag perhaps you should visit medbay!” He snarled, unsuccessfully trying to extract his limbs from the warlord’s persistent grasps. “I’m sure Knockout will quite happily bend over for our _gracious_ Lord!”

A laugh threatened to escape Megatron’s vocalizer. “I do not _seek_ an ‘easy frag’, Starscream.” He dragged the slim mech back to the edge of the berth to his chassis, legs either side of his waist. Their interface panels bumped together, sending mutual bolts of pleasure through them both.

Words evaded the Seeker’s mind as he fought against the warmth pulsing through him. His instincts were to fight, but his frame wanted nothing more than to submit. He reaffirmed his livid scowl. “So I am your _conquest_?” He demanded, planting a servo against Megatron’s considerable chest and pushing against it. “You simply want to batter me into submission?!” With a nimble shove he unhooked his legs from Megatron’s supporting servos and managed to back-roll away swiftly into a defensive crouch. Contrary to his stance, his wings flickered in clear excitement. “I had convinced myself that you had lost control of your urges – that you had used me only to relieve yourself of your sordid, _pathetic_ needs. I had no idea you would resort to such lecherous means of punishment!”

“Do not fool yourself, Starscream,” Megatron warned as he jumped into a similar crouch on the berth, stalking towards his SIC. “You find this no more a punishment than you do the very flights you take pleasure in.” If looks could terminate, the warlord would be a burning husk. 

Starscream threw himself off the berth as Megatron lunged for him, following him down onto the floor before pouncing. The Seeker screeched in rage and fear as they clashed. There was too little room for movement, serving Starscream a disadvantage. They became a tangle of limbs as they fought, tugging, pushing, scratching and even biting, but as with any outcome of this nature, Megatron emerged the victor.

Gazing down at his restrained prize, Megatron took a moment to revel in the picture presented to him. He had pinned Starscream to the floor on his front, wings quivering before him, a single optic glowering at him with barely restrained arousal. With a knee anchoring each of Starscream’s legs open to the cold decking, and one servo bending the Seeker’s left arm behind his back, Megatron leaned over his captive.

“I would never punish you in this manner,” he rumbled into the mech’s audials. Both of their cooling fans had clicked on at some point during the scuffle. “There would be no _lesson_ learned.”

Using his free servo he traced his way down Starscream’s frame slowly, listening to the hitched intake as he found his target. He stroked a single digit teasingly over the panel to the Seeker’s valve, taking note of the responsive little buck. The heat of the smaller frame was fierce even at this early stage, a testament to Starscream’s true level of exhilaration.

“The only lesson – nn –” Starscream struggled weakly, attempting to control the twitching of his hips with every brush against his panel. “Is th-that… you are a foolish, selfish leader.”

Megatron relocated his servo to the line of back struts. A chuckle broke free as he leaned closer still. “If that is what you must tell yourself…”

Starscream managed to summon a sour, angry grimace despite his face pressed into the floor. It disappeared quickly as a servo broached across his exposed wings, igniting the heat beneath his amour. He failed to inhibit a shameful groan, spine stretching lithely beneath Megatron’s wicked touches as his own free servo scratched against the floor. There was no escape against the fingers seeking out his receptive areas, expertly manipulating the many sensors. With little freedom to move, his attempts to relieve the torturous pleasure resulted in irrepressible tremors, vibrating through Megatron’s touches and revving his already stoked engines. Starscream felt feverish beneath his servos, wracked with sensations; so much more satiating than his poorly envisioned dreams. Had Megatron thought he could exercise more self-control this time around, he was sorely mistaken. His processor burned with the need to trace every line along the Seeker’s frame, to memorize every little detail missed from their previous tryst. The desire to imprint his very mark across Starscream’s body was too strong an impulse to resist. With a hard squeeze, he slid his servo around the mech’s waist, claws drawing shallow scars in the smooth metal.

Starscream hissed and arched, pain and pleasure blended together. His spark pulsed strongly and his wings jerked high on his back. Megatron trailed his servo to them, soothing his presses across their expanse in a mock caress. But even as they poised tense, he withdrew, etching another sharp set of light scratches slowly down the delicate panes.

The reaction was almost volatile: A deep groan burst from Starscream’s intake at the same time his entire frame juddered beneath Megatron, armor rattling. The resulting energy poured through the warlord’s overheated plates and he was forced to pause, allowing the excess to ebb away only marginally before driving his servo straight down to the Seeker’s aft.

Another gasp was wrenched from Starscream’s vocalizer, and finally, Megatron took pity on him. He shifted his weight and released the Seeker’s legs. They drew together, a delayed attempt to preserve some modesty, but a second later Megatron’s servo wrapped under his cockpit and lifted him to his knees and elbow; a salacious position that nullified his short bout of dignity. His bound arm was freed and he clenched his talons against the floor, about to rise from the degrading pose – but a firm palm pushed down his shoulders, restraining him. He uttered a discomforted huff.

Megatron ignored it; the position did things to his spark that not even moans could evoke. His heated circuits boiled with desire, and he was beyond caring just how great an effect this troublesome, disloyal scrap had over him. Charge surged through him as he ran both servos appreciatively along Starscream’s presented hips and waist, kneading firmly into the hot metal. A groan issued from the Seeker’s bowed helm and his pelvic array curved into the contact. Megatron swirled his servos firmly down and up the length of each thigh, thumbs teasingly close to Starscream’s panel. How could such simple, tactile actions produce such satisfying pleasures? Even in the vagueness of his dreams, Megatron would always touch, would always run his servos across the Seeker. It felt good. It felt possessive. He could not get enough. It was control; control over the Seeker’s pleasure.

Wrenching himself from his lusty haze, Megatron brought a thumb over Starscream’s hot panel, employing the lightest of touches in order to tease. A quiet, high whine protested, altering into a collection of barely restrained grunts as Megatron persisted – until he himself couldn’t resist any longer. He switched thumb for two fingers and stroked persistently, encouraging the panel to grant him access. Starscream’s evocative groans worked to unravel him, sending erratic shocks of pleasure throughout his frame, feeding his ever increasing charge. It burned with the sweetest quality.

Seeking more, he lowered his chassis slowly; so much smaller was the flyer that Megatron could fully kneel over him on servo and knees. With his busy fingers rubbing enticing circles, he pressed his chest against the Seeker’s thruster casing and wings, transferring the tangible energy of his overcharged spark and EM field into the panes of Starscream’s most sensitive appendages. 

Starscream bowed sharply beneath the sensory onslaughts, abrupt moan cutting the air as he shook so hard Megatron felt the vibrations rattle his own frame. The Seeker’s valve panel snapped open and the warlord’s digits fell upon the lubricated mesh without warning, sending Starscream into a spasm of pleasure, bordering on the precipice of overload. His servos peeled the floor surface as his vents roared.

Megatron stilled, watching with vague amazement by the reaction. His fingers inched away, his chest lifting, sensing how close Starscream was to his climax. But the Seeker was desperate for release, so close, so charged – he growled and whimpered at the loss of contact, pushing up into Megatron’s retreating hand and frame, lithe form molding to the warlord’s front, aft jutting up to find those sinful touches. Megatron removed himself swiftly.

“ _No_ –” Starscream half moaned, half snarled as he chased the source of his pleasures. He twisted around to reach for Megatron, but large servos pressed him back down to the floor, restraining his arms, denying him. “M-Megatron – I need –”

“Not yet,” Megatron whispered cruelly, optics blazing down upon his SIC’s body. His spike was throbbing painfully behind his panel, begging for release, but he held back. He lowered his intake to the Seeker’s helm. “I want this to last…”

Starscream uttered a frustrated cry, stretching his neck back on the floor in some futile attempt to alleviate the charge causing havoc in his circuits. The effect was not lost on Megatron.

Abruptly, he lifted the Seeker from the floor easily, earning a sound of surprise. Careful to avoid the erogenous areas, he deposited Starscream onto the berth and climbed atop him. The change in orientation had sobered him just slightly, and he stared up at Megatron with searching optics, wide irises and quivering wings. Giving him barely a moment’s reprieve, Megatron reached back for his wet valve, circling a finger without hesitation.

“Nn!” Starscream’s frame pulled taut.

Just as quickly, Megatron removed his digit, leaving Starscream groaning at the loss. His overly bright optics flittered across the gladiator’s hovering face plate, open and unguarded as he lay below him, completely at his mercy.

Megatron held his gaze prisoner as he fed off the pulses of Starscream’s EM field. It was so saturated with lust it could have easily turned Megatron into a mindless drone, driven to only one thing. Thankfully, he had much more willpower than any slave. Resuming the need to mark his Seeker, he lifted his servo, lubricant still shining on his finger, and began to rake his claws lightly across the panes of Starscream’s left wing.

Starscream hissed in pleasure, chassis lifting, chin tipping back as his shoulders dug into his own wings. Megatron dragged the back of his knuckles along the full length of the wing and repeated his action, indenting shallow, barely perceptible lesions into the metal. A harsh, gasping reaction rewarded his diligent efforts; it was harder to inflict pleasure than it was pain on such sensitive plating. Inspired by his success, he turned his attentions to the aileron along the bottom edge, pressing his index finger into the seam, manipulating the segment. It responded, lifting into his ministrations, and Megatron slipped his fingers along the underside, pinching the tab with enough force to bring Starscream’s chassis rising from the berth, accompanied by a most satisfying moan. The flux of Starscream’s EM field informed Megatron that he was close once again, and he released the wing, much to the Seeker’s disappointment. Starscream mewled, a sound that would have otherwise disgusted Megatron, but here it inflamed him, encouraged him. He wanted more.

A pleasant sting alerted Megatron to the grip of talons on his chassis. He glanced down to find Starscream had hooked his long fingers into his chest plating.

“Don’t stop,” Starscream rasped, needing the final chase to his climax. His frame crackled with charge, his body so hot it felt like fire – a fire his own cooling fans couldn’t sooth despite their best efforts. His optics were mere slivers of red, unfocused through the haze of arousal coursing through his processor. Primus be damned, he looked incredible. “Megatron…” 

The needy whisper, soft though it was, stormed through Megatron’s audials and ziplined straight to his spike, engorging it further. He bit back a groan.

But he withdrew himself, reining back his EM field so it could not touch the flyer. Any extra stimulation would send his SIC over the edge, and he did not want that.

Starscream half growled, half cried in frustration, trying to tug Megatron back. He would have had more success trying to move the Nemesis, and he quickly realized this. He yanked himself into the huge chassis with shaky arms, pressing his entire front against the warlord’s frame in an attempt to generate friction. He had barely done so before Megatron took his wrists in hand and managed to unhook those deadly claws, prying him from his chest. Starscream growled and groaned as he was laid back down, arms restrained either side of his helm. Megatron took a great deal of sexual pleasure from the position, the dominance he exerted over the smaller mech. Starscream could do little but writhe, unable to finish his own overload, completely helpless under Megatron’s control. He almost finished himself at the mere thought.

A labored, guttural sound fled from Starscream’s vocalizer as he strained against the gladiator’s strength, arching to alleviate his burning lines, or else find some much-needed friction. He accomplished neither, but only increased the heat in Megatron’s frame.

Feeling the edge of the Seeker’s overload recede away from its peak just slightly, Megatron made a bid for a little extra time, needing to pull him back from his verge. He squeezed the pinned wrists, just enough to pass the point of pleasure and border on discomfort. Starscream didn’t realize the ploy, he simply grunted in response, assuming it was a warning. He flexed his talons disobediently, tips scratching Megatron’s servos as he growled lowly. Just as Megatron was assuaging Starscream’s arousal, Starscream was enhancing Megatron’s. Even on the berth they could not stop playing one another, intentionally or not.

Satisfied by the levels of Starscream’s EM field – and near-desperate to find some relief – Megatron took a few more seconds to fight his urges and to imprint the vision of his SIC in his processor. Then, finally, he released a wrist and sent his claws ghosting down Starscream’s charged frame to his interface panel. With their optics locked on one another’s, Megatron pressed against the well-slicked valve, eliciting a hitched intake and a little buck. He swirled his finger for a few teasing laps and then pushed in, his entry aided by the copious amount of lubricant. Starscream’s responsive noises encouraged Megatron to continue, and a second finger quickly joined the first. Without waiting, he flexed them carefully, predicting the sharp jerk of hips and compensating to avoid damage. He curled his digits, stimulating deep-set nodes within that incredible heat. Starscream cried out, his free servo finding purchase on Megatron’s other arm, digging at the metal as the onslaught continued. His EM field spiked dangerously high, catching Megatron like a whiplash. He stilled his actions, ignoring the sound of his own fans revving up to their highest setting. Just watching Starscream was enough to finish him. But of course, visual pleasure was not all he was after. After a sufficient pause, he ceased his teasing and began to scissor his digits.

Starscream keened, lifting his hips. He seemed so far gone that had Megatron wanted to he could have stabbed through to his spark and ended his existence without struggle. All the times he had very nearly terminated the Seeker’s life, and here he had him at his most vulnerable – here, on the berth, in the midst of an intimate joining. Ironic, for it was _because_ of this new development between them that Megatron was vehemently turned off the idea. 

When at last he added a third digit, Starscream had been reduced to small pants and whines, his heat needed to be dealt with or Megatron’s actions would burn him out. But still, Megatron could not progress until he was satisfied. Their first time had provided him with necessary experience, allowed him the exploration of unfamiliar Seeker thresholds. Now, he took greater care and time to prepare Starscream, despite realizing that their size differences might always present injury. Usually Megatron wreaked damage, but here his challenge was to avoid it. Only when he felt Starscream was loose enough did he stop. And finally, _finally_ , he allowed his interface panel to fold back and his aching spike set free. 

Whining and shivering with overcharge, Starscream glanced down the length of his body to watch Megatron’s spike unhouse and swell. His hazed optics widened and a flare of trepidation pushed through his EM field. “Th-that’s too big,” he panted, staring at the sight, for the first time witnessing its size. Nervousness flashed across his face plate as he pushed his pedes into the berth and slowly edged away, tugging at Megatron’s grip on his servo. “I-it won’t fit…” He croaked shakily, creeping away when he was released.

A smile crept across Megatron’s lip plates. Not unkind, but not anything Starscream had ever seen, either. “Oh, but it will,” he assured quietly, carefully pulling the Seeker back underneath him, around him. He gazed down at round optics. “It _did_.”

Starscream’s intake gaped, words left him. His wings edged down his back, broadcasting his doubt, but his arousal was too heightened for him to want to retreat. He allowed Megatron to crawl back atop him, setting his gaze on the warlord’s optics and definitely not anywhere else.

Something in Megatron’s spark sought amusement from Starscream’s reaction to his size, pushing past the urge to reassure him. He hovered predatorily, positioning himself at the Seeker’s ready valve. For a moment more he delayed, studying the expression waiting expectantly for him, before he cupped a servo under the Seeker’s aft, angled him perfectly and pushed in.

Starscream gasped, a mix of pleasure and surprise – a victory of Megatron’s meticulous preparations. It was short lived though; as he sunk inside, the tightness became almost overwhelming and the Seeker’s vocals became tinged with slight discomfort. Megatron tilted those slim hips and slid the rest of his sizable length in the small valve. Bliss.

“Haah…aah…” Starscream panted, optics closed. Unlike their first experience, he trembled with a filled satisfaction, his coding relieved he was getting what he needed. His wings slid a slow rhythm between his back and the berth, creating a soft sound for their joining.

Megatron shivered imperceptibly, drunk on sensations. Starscream felt so tight, _so good_. He evaluated his Second’s reaction, finding no pain there – an improvement from their first time. Running his servo from Starscream’s aft to his thigh, the gladiator lifted it to his side and coaxed it to encircle his waist. Compliantly, Starscream wrapped his other around Megatron loosely, thighs gripping with shaky strength. With their position more secure, Megatron flexed his hips, biting back restraint. At the provocative moan, he set a slow, adjusting pace, nudging the Seeker’s sweet spots. Noises issued without moderation, and very soon Megatron was sliding in and out with leisurely ease, stimulating the sensors on his spike. Pleasure coiled in his circuits, provoking a deep grunt of his own. Starscream twisted underneath him, each strike to his deepest nodes sent him closer to his undoing.

Without warning, an involuntary surge of energy snapped Megatron’s hips forward, driving his spike inside Starscream with unintended force, jerking the smaller mech hard on the berth. Before the gladiator could berate himself for his instinctual actions, Starscream shrieked in ecstasy, frame bowing taut as his legs tightened around Megatron. His small pedes hooked themselves behind the gladiator, using their leverage to slide himself on the retreating spike, demanding more. Realizing he had not hurt him, Megatron obliged, flicking his hips to a steady, deep tempo. His quarters were filled with the sounds of Starscream’s yelps. Perhaps even soundproofing was no match for the Seeker. Not that it mattered, the volume of his cries was a testimony to Megatron’s skill, and if others heard, so be it. They would know who had claimed the untamable Seeker. They would know who he belonged to.

Another swell of vigor raged through the warlord’s lines, built from the noises his partner was unable to control. Megatron planted his palms either side of Starscream’s frame and drove himself into Starscream’s yielding valve, wringing an audial-shattering screech that bled into static. Megatron watched, entranced by the writhing, gasping show beneath him. Pleasure of a different kind flooded his systems, and it was all he could do to continue his blissfully ruthless pace and keep that frame squirming in unbearable rapture.

The sudden blanket of the flyer’s saturated EM field all but enveloped Megatron. Starscream was on the edge of his climax yet again, but this time the gladiator would not deny him – _could_ not deny him, for he was speeding towards his own end just as quickly. Megatron reached one servo back and gripped the Seeker’s rocking hips, helping him undulate onto his spike. Static crackled between them, their charge so strong it sparked along their sheening armors. Starscream’s sobs reverberated through the room.

He reached his peak first – body snapping into a rigid line as Megatron came immediately after, gripping his hips tightly, burying himself as deep as possible and spilling himself inside. The static scream of pleasure tearing itself from the Seeker’s vocals wrung throughout Megatron’s processor as his overload gushed from his filled valve.

There was a moment of stillness following, as thought and feeling realigned and cooling fans worked away. Energy had been expelled so violently it left Megatron a shaking mess, though he hid it well. His optics had offlined after the explosion of his climax, and he onlined them, lethargic as he took in the sight of his ravaged Seeker. Starscream’s optics had also closed, his body slowly relaxing back into the berth. Megatron had not realized those lethal talons had wedged themselves into his shoulder pauldrons, piercing an energon line each side. A chuckle slipped from Megatron’s vocalizer; it seemed Starscream was as dangerous in the berth as he was out. A true Decepticon, indeed. Even in the throes of ecstasy he was trying to maim Megatron. Something fond tickled the gladiator’s spark. He blamed the ebbing lust still circulating his frame.

Carefully, he detached Starscream’s digits, ignoring the sting, and rested his arms back by his helm where they had been pinned earlier. Starscream cracked open his optics.

“--ou –etter not st--rt another r—und,” his vocalized dotted out warningly, nearly obscured under the hum of his still frantic fans.

Megatron removed his servos but braced them either side of Starscream’s, looming over him still. “And what if I did?” He challenged gently.

Starscream smirked sedately. “You coul—n’t.”

Megatron smirked, too. “Perhaps I will show you just _what_ I can do.” He nudged his hips, his spike still sheathed inside the Seeker.

An unintended keen was pushed from Starscream’s sore vocalizer. He collected himself and shot a tired, half-sparked glare.

Amused, Megatron lifted himself back and ran his servos appreciatively along Starscream’s waist, admiring the way they joined far too much. He unhooked the Seeker’s legs from around his middle and set them down, slowly withdrawing his spent spike from the warmth. He caught Starscream’s dim optics watching as he separated, amused even further by the look on his face plate – he could hardly believe he had managed to take Megatron’s sizable length himself.

Their transfluid dripped onto the berth. Megatron left Starscream to enter his wash rack, returning with the cloth he had used before. The Seeker was still awake, and had managed to prop himself back onto his elbows, his wings drooping. Megatron approached.

“I ca-- ta---- care -f myself,” he snapped exhaustively as the warlord neared his leg, kicking out. It may have been more effective had he the energy to actually kick.

Megatron threw the cloth at him and disappeared back into the wash rack, cleaning himself off. It seemed Starscream’s prickly nature was already reasserting itself. Either that, or he did not want to be seen in such a weakened state without a form of protection. Starscream often used his scathing vocabulary to camouflage himself.

The solvent felt really good against Megatron’s over-sensitive plating, despite the many stinging scrapes and cuts he had sustained in their initial wrestle. He stood beneath the downpour a while, fans shutting off, feeling his energy already starting to replenish. His systems were particularly fuel-efficient, in much the same way Seekers should be when they hadn’t skipped important energon rations.

When he returned to his room, Starscream’s lack of energy was apparent. He had managed to climb off the high berth and made a shaky effort to reach the exit door. He stumbled heavily into the wall, legs buckling.

“You don’t know when to quit,” Megatron began, “even when your _systems_ are shutting down.”

Starscream glared at him. He hadn’t even the energy to lift his wings to their usual position. Nor had he the energy to retort, apparently.

“Are you really going to stumble from this room, at this time, looking like that?”

Starscream’s optics narrowed, but they quickly glanced down at his frame, noticing the collection of marks he had obtained. And those were the ones he could see. He hesitated, staring hard at the door as though he could see through it.

“Do go ahead,” Megatron teased, smirking. “It matters not to me who sees you sporting my marks.” He deliberately panned his optics down to the Seeker’s inner thighs. “Among other things.”

Starscream bristled, summoning what little energy he had left to shift his legs and hide the mess still trickling down his legs. He barred his denta, shooting the gladiator another bitter glare.

Highly amused, Megatron approached and Starscream stepped back warily, uttering a bleep of malfunction when the huge mech pushed against his chassis. The Seeker stumbled back into the edge of the berth, gripping it weakly as Megatron then turned to his personal energon dispenser. Again, he produced a cube for his malnourished SIC, holding it out for the jet to take.

For a moment Starscream merely stared at it, distrusting. Then he took it with a visibly shaking servo and drank, desperate for the fuel. His fans finally lessened, internal temperatures regulating.

Megatron watched, denying the pleasantness of observing such a mundane action. “Rest,” he ordered. After a second he turned and crossed his space to the door, issuing the command to open. As it slid aside, a clatter sounded from his room, and he stopped at the threshold, looking back.

The energon cube lay on the floor, spilling what remained. On the floor, Starscream had slumped against the berth, soundly in recharge, and in a surely uncomfortable position.

Megatron rolled his optics and stepped back inside. His door closed behind.


End file.
